


A Very Winchester Fourth of July

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Comfort/Angst, Fallen Castiel, Family Fluff, Fireworks, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Fourth of July, Human Castiel, Impala Fic, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kissing, Love, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is determined to enjoy the Fourth of July like a normal family, so he drags Sam and Castiel out to buy fireworks. Although Sam drags his feet at first, he ends up enjoying himself, not that he would ever admit liking a holiday. Castiel, however, reveals unexpected memories to Dean about his time as an angel. Was it a mistake to show him fireworks?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Winchester Fourth of July

"Where’s your spirit of independence, Sammy?" Dean drummed the steering wheel to his favorite Zeppelin record. “Come on! Fourth of July! Barbecues! Beer! Fireworks! Swimming in lakes!"

Sam’s face twisted. “Who’s childhood are you talking about?"

"The one we should've had! The one we’re going to give Cas. It’s gonna be great. You’ll see."

"I don’t see why we have to drive across state lines to buy fireworks when we could go see some at a park or something if you just want him to see that." The younger Winchester tried to lean back in the passenger seat but really had nowhere to go with all those arms and legs.

"Nah, that's not the American way. Cas has to do it right his first time," said Dean as if anybody had a choice in the matter.

"Fine." Sam rolled his eyes. "You're buying me the good beer then."

"Deal."

Cas leaned forward in the back seat, raising his voice over the roaring Impala engine. "Dean, I'm not American. I have no nationality."

"You're human now, Cas. You fell on American soil. Far as I can tell, that's the same as being born in America." He shrugged. "We're gonna have fun. We haven't had a day off in weeks. Everybody else in the country is partying, so we will too, damn it. We're a normal family. Mostly. Maybe."

"What's normal?" muttered Sam.

"Sam, I notice you have an aversion to all human holidays," Castiel commented. "Why does Dean enjoy them while you do not?"

Dean kept quiet. It wasn't his place to psychoanalyze his brother in front of Castiel, which had been a habit whenever the former angel asked those kinds of questions. He made himself as distant as possible in the confines of the Impala, humming along with Zeppelin, but he stole a glance at his brother too. Sam shifted in his seat and sighed heavily.

"Dean had more happy holidays than I did," he replied solemnly. "He knows how to do it."

"Because he had more years with both of your parents," Castiel surmised.

They both knew Castiel merely tried to understand the intricacies of human families rather than be mean. Sam's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah," he said, strained, "Dean had more time."

Nodding, Castiel seemed to understand the situation better. He leaned back and watched the scenery whizzing by the window, deep in thought. Lines around his blue eyes smoothed the way they did whenever he grew quiet and reflective. Dean peered occasionally at his reflection in the rear view mirror, so very human in baggy khaki shorts and a white t-shirt, yet still so very angelic with unnaturally still posture. He didn't tolerate July heat well. Dean rolled down his window a little more for him.

"It's never too late to learn and build new memories, Sam," the former angel said quietly, after a time. "I suspect everyone has lost family."

Sometimes Castiel's insight cut straight through Winchester angst in such a direct way that it took Dean's breath away. Still, he said nothing. It wasn't about him.

Ahead, a giant warehouse on the side of the interstate displayed bright, glittering fireworks cutouts on the roof. Dean smiled. Nothing like a warehouse full of explosives to wake a guy up in the morning. Sam would never admit it but his eyes brightened a little bit too. And Castiel, well, he eyed the whole thing like a grand experiment. That was fine by Dean as long as he knew what it felt like to have fun by the end of the night.

Castiel pushed a narrow shopping cart up and down every single aisle. It amused Dean, who followed close behind with Sam trailing the rear, as the former angel examined every type of firework. He knew Sam was doing his damnest to seem miserable, but the younger Winchester dropped sparklers and Roman candles in the cart when he thought nobody saw him. Dean damn near beamed with pride each time Castiel appeared to favor the bigger fireworks. His mood elevated so much that he came up behind his lover in public and wrapped an arm around him as he insisted on reading everything about every explosive.

All in all, they spent six hundred dollars on Castiel's first Fourth of July. Dean wasn't sure how they were going to make up that money but he didn't care. That day, the hunter was hell bent and determined to have a real family holiday.

By the time they stopped for burgers, the sun was well on its way to bed for the night. They drove deep into seclusion where cops were less likely to find them and pulled the Impala into an opening in the woods safe enough to set off fireworks. Dean actually felt a rush of excitement. Finally, something fun to do, and an opportunity to show Castiel a good thing about being human.

"Sammy, don't forget the beer!" he called back as he toted a box of fireworks to their campsite.

"Got it." Sam hoisted a case of beer and slammed the car door.

Castiel sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands with one leg folded under him and the other flung out carelessly. His head tilted up to the darkening sky, the brightening stars, and Dean watched his eyes drift over to the moon climbing up from the treeline.

"Hey," Dean beckoned as he crouched next to him. "Don't think you're gonna sit here like a spectator."

His lover looked up at him, confused head tilt and all. "Isn't that what people do? Watch the fireworks?"

"Sure, but that's not how we roll. Come on."

Obediently, Castiel followed Dean to the spot in the middle of the field where Sam organized their explosive loot. In spite of himself, Sam actually smiled and plucked beer bottles - the _good_ beer - out of the cooler for the both of them.

"Thanks." Dean sucked a long, cold mouthful.

Beer wasn't one of Castiel's absolute favorite drinks, they all knew, but he liked it well enough. He mimicked the way Dean drank his, almost as if the younger kid in school trying to look awesome.

Sam pointed at the former angel with his beer. "I'd start him off easy. He barely knows how to shoot let alone handle explosives like these." He grabbed a box of sparklers from his perfectly organized piles and took one out for Castiel.

"Wussy sparklers, Sammy? Really?" Dean's face wrinkled in disgust.

"Oh right, let's start him on that stuff so he can blow off his arm." The younger Winchester pointed a long arm at the boxes of larger fireworks that were probably just as good as any of the professional shows.

"Give me the sparklers," Castiel said with an open hand. "You're forgetting I haven't done any of this before, Dean. It's all fascinating."

"Okay." Sighing like an impatient child, Dean handed him one of the sparklers and his own lighter. "Like this." Both he and Sam lit their own sticks to demonstrate, blooming colors of red and green light illuminating their faces. All right, fine. It made Dean's impatient childishness turn to the smile of an innocent child.

The bright ball of sparks descending Castiel's stick cast a glow on his face that gave Dean momentary pause. He remembered how bright angelic grace made him look when he smited. Those days were long gone for him, though, and only a smile rested on his lips where before had been the grimace of killing. Dean shook off the reverie, determined not to sink into bad memories that night.

"It's beautiful," Castiel said. He waved the sparkler with light trails just like every child did at their first Fourth of Julys.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," replied Dean, nearly giddy. "Sammy, start digging the hole."

"Oh hell. Not the Roman candle bomb."

Dean gave a wicked smile as he crouched at the piles of variously sized Roman candle sticks. "Oh yeah. Don't fight it, Sammy. It's  _awesome_." He chose the biggest ones from the selection and began bundling six sticks together with masking tape.

"We're gonna start a forest fire," Sam muttered as he dug a hole.

Curiously, Castiel leaned over Dean's shoulder and watched him build a giant singular fuse out of six individual fuses. "Is this safe?"

"It's  _awesome_. I've done it before. Don't worry." He flashed a smile.

Together, the Winchester brother's half-buried Dean's so-called Roman candle bomb to keep it secure. Sam, ever conscious of safety and thinking ahead, cleared away all the loose sticks and brush, having decided that was where they'd light the rest of their loot too. Dean looked up just to be certain no tree branches were going to get hit and catch fire either. He wasn't normally so concerned about safety in anything, but a lot changed in him when Castiel first worked up the nerve to kiss his lips that rainy May night. There was something to live for now.

"Okay, come here, Cas," Dean said. "You get to do the honors."

"You sure?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Yep. I'll be right here." Absently, he rested a hand on Castiel's thigh as they crouched side by side. "Okay, light the big fuse and then we back up quick to the car."

Anticipation twitched Castiel's full mouth in a faint smile. Dean knew this new experience was exciting to him and it spread a layer of warmth through his chest just knowing he could make this happen. The former angel flicked his lighter and touched the flame to the end of the fuse. Immediately, the three of them scattered back to the car, where Dean and Castiel sat together on the hood with Sam leaning from the side.

Red and white light spilled from the Roman candle bomb. Dean watched Castiel more than his own handiwork, and in a few seconds, red and white balls of light whistled toward the sky. Crackling and booming followed each little fireball. Amazement smoothed Castiel's features as his head turned up to the blackness painted with color, reflections of little fireballs tracing over the intense blue his eyes. His mouth fell open just slightly, then curled into a smile, which Dean copied without being aware of it. Sometimes he couldn't even comprehend what he felt for Castiel.

Even Sam let go of some of his attitude toward holidays as he drained the last of his beer bottle. "I'll set up the bigger ones. Let Cas watch a while," he suggested.

"You sure, Sammy?"

"Yeah, I want to." He shrugged with a sheepish smile and set to work.

Dean nodded and turned his attention back to Castiel. He tenderly touched his shoulder and skimmed a hand down his arm. It still made him uncomfortable to show affection around Sam, but the younger brother seemed too busy to notice.

Castiel turned to Dean on the hood of the car and lightly smiled. "This is what families do together."

"Yeah, tonight anyway," replied Dean. "You never saw fireworks?"

"I did but only in the abstract sense. Like so many other things about humanity, I never had the ability to..." He struggled to find the words.

"To feel the importance," Dean attempted.

"Yes." Nodding, Castiel watched Sam half-burying different bundles of the larger fireworks. "I feel now. There are times when it's so overwhelming that I have difficulty staying focused on more important matters."

Another Roman candle bomb erupted with Sam standing at the other end of the field, smiling up at the sky. Dean and Castiel watched it together, sliding close enough on the hood of the Impala that they unconsciously hooked arms around each other. Subtly, knowing Dean wasn't so comfortable with affection in front of Sam, Castiel leaned into the crook of Dean's arm.

"I'm gonna light the big dogs!" shouted Sam once the Roman candle bomb finished. "I've got a plan! Timing them out!"

Dean nodded and smirked, knowing his little brother finally allowed himself to enjoy the night. He had no plans to leave the hood of the car anyway. With Castiel in the crook of his arm, a beer in the other hand, and his baby in pristine condition beneath him, life didn't get any better.

"How's the beer?" he asked.

Castiel glanced down at the half-empty bottle in his hand, balanced on his knee. "It's an interesting flavor."

"It's an acquired taste. Your sweet tooth might not let you like it much."

"Sweet tooth?"

"When you like sweet tastes more than salty or bitter tastes."

"Oh." A mighty attempt at swallowing more of the beer pulled at Castiel's throat. He chuckled. "I do like Coke and Dr Pepper."

"And cake," added Dean. "Traitor. Pie is better."

"Cake."

"Pie."

"Cake!"

"Pie!"

Smirking, Castiel faced Dean and silenced him with a long kiss. Mouths played with each other in languid brushes of tongues and warm puffs of beer breath. They smiled softly against each other's lips.

"Cake," he whispered playfully.

A loud, dramatic groan across the field distracted them as Sam pretended to shove his finger down his throat. "Are you gonna make out all night or are you gonna watch?" he yelled. "I think I got it! You guys ready over there?"

"Hurry up, Sammy!" Dean shouted back.

Sam laughingly flipped him a middle finger and sparked each fuse a few seconds apart. The instant everything lit, he jogged back to a safe distance.

Like a professional, Sam arranged the fireworks to progress slowly from smaller crackles and sparkles to loud booms and colors streaking across the sky. The three of them watched in mesmerized silence for quite a while, each quite impressed with the display.

Clusters of spinning explosions in white and gold arrived midway through the show. Dean smiled with the whistles and booms until he felt Castiel's body stiffen in the crook of his arm. For a moment, he thought the noise might be bothering his sensitive human ears, so he absently rubbed Castiel's back without looking at him. He realized only the huge, bright white and gold fireworks made the former angel stiffen though, which alerted him to something amiss. Only seeing Castiel wipe his eye in his peripherals really drew Dean's attention from the fireworks. He glanced at Castiel's round face and froze at the sight of tear streaks rolling down his cheeks.

"Cas? What's wrong?" He panicked internally, wondering if it was too much like seeing the angels fall.

Christ,  _shit_ ,  _fuck_. Castiel was really crying, not even just teary-eyed. A minor snob caught in his throat and Dean realized he had never seen him cry, except the blood tears that one time before he was cast out of Heaven. His gaze fell from the sky to his lap as he breathed an unsteady, sorrowful rhythm. Dean decided it wasn't panic. No. It was longing and mourning.

"Cas..." Dean squeezed him tighter around the ribs. "Talk to me."

"The white and gold ones," he began with a gesture toward the sky. Swiping an uncertain hand under his eyes, he finally looked at Dean with watery blue irises and a trembling lower lip. "I used to see your soul from miles away. It was so bright. It still is, but I can't see it anymore. Not since my grace was stolen. I forced myself to accept that I would never see it again because I realized I could feel it, as a man." He pressed his hand to Dean's chest. "It pulls at me when you're close by. That's enough for me now. Perhaps I needed to stop seeing it in order to truly feel it."

Dean nodded, trying to understand. "I feel yours too. Just like that."

"I'm not accustomed to having this soul in me but I feel it, like I feel yours too. Yours feels better." He wiped his eyes again, calmer now, and looked to the sky. "I grew accustomed to not seeing your soul anymore until tonight. The white ones - that one there - they resemble the luminous intensity of what your soul looks like in your chest. I saw it long before I ever reached you in Hell. It called to me and pulled me along as I fought Alistair's demons. Human soul light dims in trauma, but not yours. It becomes brighter, like defiance." His eyes, returning to peacefulness, fell to Dean's face briefly. "There was no way I could have allowed another angel to win the battle. I knew you the second I saw your soul."

Dean stared up into the sky as Sam's fireworks arrangement neared a grand finale. The confession left him speechless for once in his life. He had no recollection of Castiel rescuing him from Hell, but the way he'd always stared as an angel suddenly made sense. It must have been like a moth beating its wings against a porch light just to feel the warmth.

"Bringing me here allowed me to remember," he said quietly, beneath the layers of explosives. "Thank you, Dean."

The hunter couldn't overcome his more frequent bouts of tenderness and affection, but that night, it didn't matter if Sam saw. His large hands grasped Castiel's jawline in the darkness, fireworks exploding overhead, and he kissed the streaks of tears. Castiel had already calmed but those tears were shed for him and his thumbs then gently wiped them from his cheeks. His lips drifted to Castiel's and they kissed beneath a blanket of color, fire, and light, just like Dean's soul.

"You tell me when you want to see it again and we'll do this whether it's the Fourth or not," Dean promised.

Castiel hooked his hands around Dean's wrists as they grasped his tearful face. Their kisses met once more as if sealing that promise, and so many others left unspoken between them.

Neither the hunter nor the former angel would ever see fireworks the same way again.


End file.
